


This Charming Man

by cherryvanilla



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-11
Updated: 2011-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-19 06:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted <a href="http://inception-kink.livejournal.com/17947.html?thread=40945947#t40945947"><span class="u">here</span></a> for <a href="http://inception-kink.livejournal.com/17947.html?thread=39817499"><span class="u">this prompt</span></a>. Or, in which Arthur is adorable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Charming Man

Eames has always prided himself on being the love 'em and leave 'em type. It fits well with his hectic work schedule and the men he hooks up with (in rather seedy bars) were more than happy to oblige after he gave them the ride of their life. Arthur’s is the longest courtship he’s ever indulged in. Arthur, who had crinkled his nose the first time Eames had leered suggestively in his direction, responding with a firm, “I don’t sleep with my co-workers.”

“You really must learn to have some fun, darling,” Eames had responded,and he feels like he’s been saying the same thing for four years. 

So when Cobb walks out of the airport and off to being a free man and Arthur is richer than he knows what to do with, Eames thinks  _yes, finally_. He spares a brief thought as to why he’s expelled so much energy on a pending one-night stand. Arthur has been an itch he’s wanted to scratch for far too long. Eames isn’t used to someone thwarting his attempts at copulation and it’s not like Arthur hasn’t thrown little discreet glances in his direction on numerous occasions, anyway. The whole thing seems terribly silly when you think about it. The sex would be fantastic and then Eames could move on and stop thinking of how competent Arthur looks while shooting a projection or how his pants pull perfectly tight over his arse when he’s ducking out of the range of flying bullets. Or, the sex could be downright awful; Eames is almost hoping for the latter. 

Arthur, ever so predictable, glides up next to him and says, “I have an apartment here. And I have no idea when or if I’ll be working again, so,what do you say?”

  
Eames eyes him up and down, letting his eyes roam freely over Arthur’s delicious suit. “I say it’s beneath you for even thinking you have to ask.” 

Arthur just nods politely and turns on his heel towards the taxis.   
_______________________________________________________

They don’t touch in the taxi and Eames can’t help but wonder if Arthur’s going to be one of those guys who just lay there and take it. The taxi jolts to a skidding stop at a light. Their legs brush together and Arthur steadies himself with a hand on Eames’ thigh. The touch is sharp and hot and when Eames sneaks a look Arthur is smiling secretively to himself. He begins to revise his previous assessment. 

They’re soon in Arthur’s apartment, which is neat and tidy and everything very Arthur-like. It’s clear the place is one he doesn’t frequent as often as he’d like. Arthur’s bedroom is bathed in warm colors and it engulfs Eames like a blanket. 

Aside from the welcoming ambiance the room is mostly devoid of particulars that could inherently link it to Arthur. Except, Eames notes, for the record player on the floor near the wardrobe, the pile of albums stacked loosely on an end table, and a vintage poster of The Pixies at the Fillmore hanging in one lone corner. Eames feels his chest go tight and suddenly recalls one summer in Barcelona, the second job he’d ever done with Arthur. Arthur had forgotten to silence his phone; “A rookie mistake,” Eames had chided immediately before actually listening. Then he’d nearly given himself whiplash. “Is that ‘Hey’?” 

A lovely blush had crept up Arthur’s cheeks before he told Eames he was impressed. That was a good day, and not just because of the exorbitant payout. 

Arthur snogs like he’s trying to claim first prize in the most enthusiastic kisser contest. Eames just hitches him closer by his lapels and swallows his lips, licking between them and delighting in Arthur’s soft sighs. Eames decides it’s time someone tore a suit off this infuriating man. He sets to it, ripping at expensive fabric and loving when Arthur doesn’t voice one word of protest; instead he just moans, throwing his head back in a delicious arch. 

 

Once they're naked, he tumbles them both onto the bed, handsroaming over heated skin, mouths biting and licking. Eames swallows Arthur down like he’s been starving for it, like he’s been famished for four bloody years. Arthur groansandtugs onEames'hair. Before Eames realizes what’s happening, Arthur’s repositioned them so he can lick at Eames’ cock. They suck one another in tandem,and Eames’ fingers clench on Arthur’s ass. 

“Want you in me,” Arthur gasps outwhile,lazily licking down Eames’ dick and burying his nose in the soft curls at the base. 

He’s barely able to formulate a response before Arthur is climbing over him, reaching for what he assumes is slick and rubbers,and he’s then slowly lowering himselfdownwhile pinning Eames’ hands on either side of his head. Eames’ chestheavesas he watches Arthur rise and fall above him, eyes trained on where their bodies connect. He loses himself in the tight heat of Arthur’s arse and the perfect way his pomade comes loose, causing his hair to fall gracelessly across his brow. 

Eames feels his thighs tense as Arthur screws himself down harder, their bodies bouncing on the bed and knocking the headboard against the wall with vigor. He watches Arthur arch forward, takes inthe wayhis hands tighten on Eames’ hips. They come nearly together and Eames spares a thought for the rarity of that occurrence. White hot pleasure flashes behind his eyes and his body bucks upward while Arthur clenches around him. He vaguely hears their simultaneous cries through the pounding of blood in his ears. 

Arthur flops down next to him after,tying off the condom and making sure it is securely disposed of. Thenhe turns his body into Eames, throwing an arm loosely around his waist and nudging at Eames’ throat with his cheek. 

“Mmmm, that was good,” Arthur says, nearly purring. 

Eames hums noncommittally. Arthur, apparently not satisfied by that response, begins running fingers his over Eames’ belly and under his arm pits in frenzied movements. “I said, ‘That. Was.Good.’”

Eames turns to him, incredulously. Arthur has dimples; Eames’ world is blown. 

“Are you… are you tickling me?” Eames asks amidst the relentless motions of Arthur’s hands. 

“Gee, mister, you’re quick,” Arthur says coyly, like some pre-codeHollywood starlet, his eyes bright. 

 _Oh my god_ , thinks Eames. He looks at Arthur, takes in his loose limps and goofy smile.  _Oh my fucking god_ , he amends. Eames is used to men innocuously saying, “Man, you’re one great fuck,” after sex while he just rolls his eyes at the cheesiness of the line. To Eames, everything said after sex sounds ridiculous and meaningless. But when Arthur says “that was good,” he sounds sincere; sweet, even. And when he insults Eames’ intelligence,it’s like they’re back on a job where Arthur gives him just enough to play with but it’s not enough, it’s never enough. 

“I’m not ticklish. No respectable man is. Or at the very least wouldn’t admit it aloud,” Eames responds, gruffly. 

“Well I guess it’s a good thing I’m not respectable, then,” Arthur says solemnly, and then collapses into a fit of giggles after five seconds.  _Giggles_. 

“Was your Somnacin laced with something?” Eames asks seriously. 

Arthur just swats at him and snuggles closer, wrapping his arms and legs around Eames like a Koala. “I’m high on life, baby.”

Eames can’t be expected to take much more. He’s only human, after all. He pounces on top of Arthur, tickling him into submission and lets that lovely, brilliant laugh wash over him like a cool, light mist. 

Eames doesn’t just stay the night, he stays a whole bloody week. And when he leaves to take care of some loose ends in Mombasa, he gives Arthur his real phone number. There’s a first time for everything, he guesses. 


End file.
